Fragile
by Portmanteu
Summary: Late night fluff become filth rather quickly when Clint and Loki are concerned. Warnings for smut.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing beyond the scenarios my twisted little brain spits out. All characters contained within belong to bigger and better entities than I. Please do not sue, as I own literally nothing beyond the clothes on my back. Also, grammar and tenses sometimes escape me, so please, be kind.**_

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Loki stretched sleepily and looked to where Clint was curled in the large, plush chair across the room. He'd been watching something on the television, but now his eyes were half-closed, and one arm draped over the edge of the chair, fingers loose. Loki gave a slight smile at the sight of his sleepy Hawk, and pushed off the couch to his feet. Crossing the room, he wove his long fingers through Clint's hair, saying, "Come, my Hawk. The hour is late and we both grow weary. The time has come, I think, to retire."

Clint muttered, "But this isn't over yet," while leaning his head back into Loki's touch, enjoying the feel of fingers stroking his scalp.

"And you are half-asleep," Loki replied. "I do not think you will remain awake long enough to see the end, so it does not matter. Will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to bed? I find I sleep better with you at my side."

"You always ask so politely," Clint chuckled while thumbing the power button on the remote.

"I do have a modicum of manners tucked away. I just sometimes neglect to use them when the occasion so calls."

"Yeah, I've noticed," Clint remarked dryly as he rose to his feet and turned to Loki, who was leaning on the back of the chair, giving him an expectant look.

A wry smile rose on the dark god's face as he straightened up. "Would you have me any other way, my Hawk?"

"Oh, there's lots of ways I'd like to have you," the archer smirked as he backed Loki toward the bedroom. "But you DID ask politely, so I may as well reward you for that."

The taller man grinned and slid one hand around the nape of Clint's neck, tugging him forward. "I do like being rewarded. But for now, having you curled beside me in a warm bed will have to be enough, I think."

Clint yawned and murmured, "Yeah. Don't know how much more I'm up for right now. It's been a long day." He flipped the light switch as they exited the living room, leaving the only illumination the moonlight streaming in the windows.

Once in the bedroom, Loki stripped out of his shirt, sliding into bed clad only in a soft pair of sleep pants. Clint shed everything but his boxers and slipped in next to Loki, pulling the taller man's back against his chest. The God molded himself to the archer, and sighed contentedly, lacing his fingers through Clint's own. They were quiet for several long minutes before Clint nuzzled his face into Loki's hair and murmuring, "Don't know why you keep me around."

Loki's mouth lazily curved into a smile in the dark; Clint sometimes got introspective when he was tired. But he only voiced such thoughts in the night, when Loki could not see his face. "Why would you say such a thing," he chided gently, squeezing Clint's hand a bit tighter.

"Dunno. I guess because you could have anyone. But you chose me…and I don't know why."

"Do you truly not know your worth to me?"

"Nope," Clint answered flippantly. "What's so special about me?"

"You are unique," Loki began, tracing the fingers his free hand up and down the forearm Clint had slung over his waist. "Your loyalty knows no bounds. You have a quick mind, and an inventive imagination. You are never, ever boring. You…intrigue me."

"Probably helps that I'm so damn cute, too," Clint teased, the sound of his pleased smile plain in his words.

Loki laughed merrily. If there was one thing his Hawk never doubted, it was his physical attractiveness. After all, Loki had proved to Barton over and over again how desirable he found him.

"Yes," the dark-god purred. "That is indeed an added bonus." He rocked his hips back against Barton, drawing a slight moan from the smaller man.

"Thought you were tired," Clint asked, the smile still evident in his voice.

"I am never too tired to respond to you, my Hawk," Loki said, his tone gone to velvet and smoke.

"Oh. Well, in that case," the archer murmured while bringing his hand to Loki's hip and tugging him more firmly against him.

Loki arched his back, grinding his ass into Clint's rapidly hardening cock as he huffed out a quiet groan. He felt Barton's hand slide from his hip down to palm his own heavy length, and the groan became a hiss of pure lust.

"Like that, do you," the smaller man whispered, his lips brushing against Loki's ear.

"Yes. Very much," Loki gasped, slipping his own hand over Clint's and pressing down. "I find myself craving your touch quite frequently. The feel of your hands on my body is absolutely…intoxicating."

Clint growled and bumped his hips forward, running his tongue along the shell of Loki's ear before continuing to press his palm rhythmically against the God's cock.

"Tell me more," Clint murmured, nipping at the hollow under Loki's ear. "When you're all worked up like this, your voice…it does things to me." He slipped his hand under the waistband of Loki's pants, then, wrapping his fingers around his girth and tugging lightly.

"Oh," Loki huffed, and his hips thrust forward of their own accord, fucking himself into the tight tunnel of Clint's fist. "You feel so divine like this. Your hands on my bare skin are so very hot; almost burning me." He moaned as the archer stroked him a bit faster.

"What else?"

Loki's breath came faster, and he pushed back against the smaller man's aching length, wriggling shamelessly. "This," he said. "I do not know what hold you have over me, Clint, but I want nothing more that to have you inside of me. To hear you growl into my ear as you fill me so completely full; to have you groan brokenly as you spill inside me. It sends such delicious shivers down my spine to know that you want me so."

"Fuck," Clint grunted. "How could I _not_ want you? The way you move. The lust in your eyes when you stare me down. I can't even look at you without wanting to take you to the floor and fuck you until you beg me to stop."

"I will never ask you to stop," the God purred. "I will only beg for more."

"I know," the archer growled. He raised his hand to the taller man's mouth and slid two fingers between his lips. "Suck," he commanded, and Loki complied eagerly, swirling his tongue over and around the invading digits. Clint moaned at the feel of the wet, grasping heat, and ground his hips against Loki's ass again. His cock was throbbing with need, and all he wanted was to pin the God down and rut deep between his thighs. To make him scream in the smoky voice that begged so prettily when Clint buried himself so deep within.

He pulled his fingers from Loki's mouth and pressed against his entrance, thrilling at how the God immediately stilled, then pushed back to force Barton's fingers into him. Loki whined as his body stretched, those talented fingers slipping past the tight ring of muscle and crooking inside of him, stroking and scissoring. He shuddered as Clint began pushing in and out, working him open, readying him for that which Loki so craved. He uttered needy little cries, bucking his hips and driving his teeth into his lower lip, trying to hold back from begging Clint to just take him; to drive deep into his body and fuck him until he couldn't remember his own name.

"Do you want more," Clint growled, his voice like gravel, his lust evident in his tone.

"Y-yes," Loki stuttered, writhing under the blaze of feelings exploding from his center, his cock twitching steadily as Barton's fingers rubbed and slid inside him.

"What do you say," the smaller man breathed into Loki's ear before sinking his teeth into the nape of the God's neck.

Loki shrieked at the press of Clint's teeth into his flesh and thrust back against the invading fingers, sobbing, "P-please?"

"Good boy," Barton cooed, and pulled his fingers free from Loki's grasping heat.

The God let out a broken gasp, and rolled quickly onto his stomach, grinding his aching cock into the bed before lifting his hips and begging, "Please, Clint. I want you inside of me, splitting me open. I wish to feel you spill within me so deep and so hard that it leaves me gasping for breath. I want to be pinned beneath you while you fuck me like the little whore you know I am. Please? Give it to me?"

Clint uttered a deep groan and dug his fingers into Loki's hips, yanking him up a bit further as he slid between the God's spread thighs. "I'll give you whatever the fuck you want as long as you keep talking like that," he said as he pressed the head of his cock to Loki's entrance. He nudged against him and Loki reached back, palm slick with some conjured substance. He smoothed it over Clint's length, tearing a moan from the archer's throat, and then pressed back, taking his girth easily.

"Oh _fuck_," Clint gasped as Loki sank down on his cock, fully enveloping him in his tight, damp heat. "Fuck. Just like that," he said through gritted teeth, his hands clasping Loki's hips all the tighter as the God began to buck back against him. Clint held his position, allowing Loki to rut for a moment, before he snapped his own hips forward, and drove the taller man into the mattress. Loki squealed and squirmed under the archer as he bent low and licked a heated stripe up the God's spine. "Mine," Clint growled, and thrust forward again.

"Yours," Loki agreed, his hands fisting the sheets as Barton rode him.

"Gonna get you a nice little collar," Clint panted. "With a tag that says 'Property of Clint Barton'."

Loki moaned, a spike of arousal shooting straight to his cock at the idea of Clint claiming him so completely. "Yes," he whimpered.

"Would you like that," the archer questioned.

"Very much."

"A thin black collar, strapped around that pretty little neck," Clint whispered, one hand leaving Loki's hip to clasp his nape, pinning him to the bed as he rutted into him again and again.

"Please?"

"Absolutely," he breathed, feeling the tension begin to build at the base of his spine. When Loki was like this it took all of Clint's willpower to hold off from spilling immediately. He ached to fill him, to mark him, to own him completely. And Loki knew it. The god twitched his hips, urging the smaller man on with his moans, knowing that nothing broke him faster than hearing Loki's whorish cries.

Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Clint slipped his other hand beneath Loki, curling it around his leaking length and tugging harshly. The lust filled groan he voiced was followed by the god bucking into his fist, mewling weakly. Clint molded himself to Loki's back, arching close to his ear and grunting, "C'mon, princess. Wanna hear you scream for me; feel you go all tight around me when I come."

"Y-yes," Loki cried, hips snapping back and forth as he fucked Clint's hand and cock in equal measure.

Three more strokes of Clint's fist and the god broke apart, howling out his completion as he soaked the sheets beneath him. He clenched so tightly around the archer that he bit back a hiss of pain, and then he was coming, hard and deep and violently. His head arched back as he filled Loki to overflowing, the heat of his release prolonging the pleasure the dark god felt. They gasped and moaned in unison, their frenzied rutting become a lazy dance of fulfilled lust, until they collapsed in a twitching pile of sweaty flesh.

After a moment, Clint withdrew, gasping for breath, and rolled onto his back, forearm across his eyes. Loki molded to his side, laying his head on the archers solid bicep and ran his slender fingers across Clint's heaving chest.

"So," the smaller man asked. "Is _that_ why you keep me around?"

"One of the reasons," Loki conceded. "But it is not the most important one. Not by far."

Clint was silent for a long moment before replying. "Fair enough," was all he said, and then he wrapped his arm around the still trembling god, pulled him close and drifted off, visions of a thin black collar dancing in his head.


End file.
